Happy Endings
by Inamioly
Summary: When Sister Bernadette falls ill, the nuns call Dr. Turner.
1. Chapter 1

The living-room was as quiet as it always was at that time of the night. All the nurses were either sleeping or delivering babies, and Sister Monica Joan, who usually provided the nuns with most of their nightly entertainment, was sound asleep in her room. The only sound that echoed in the tiny room was Sister Bernadette's shallow breath, and, perhaps, Sister Julienne's worried thoughts.

"Are you quite sure you don't want to lie down for a moment, Sister?" The older woman asked while rubbing her back soothingly. "You look like you could use some rest."

"Thank you, but I think I would rather keep reading until I can get my eyes to close." Sister Bernadette forced a timid smile. "It is not as If anything else works these days."

Sister Julienne sighed. "I do hope you know that is not the healthiest way to live, regardless of what is keeping you awake."

The younger nun nodded and rested her head in the couch. "I appreciate your concern, Sister. Please, it is late, and you are very tired; I can see it in your eyes. Go to sleep, and maybe I will be ready to talk in the morning."

Sister Julienne smiled fondly. "Why did that sound more like an improbability than a desire to me? If you need me, do not hesitate to go and reach me." She got up from the couch. "Goodnight, my dear." She brushed her cheek and gasped. "But, Sister, you are burning up!"

Sister Bernadette withdrew from the touch, fearful, and protested quietly. "It is just a mild fever. I am sure tomorrow it will have gone away."

"Honey, I do not know if those are tears or not, but your eyes are bright nonetheless. You are crying, or you have a very high fever; you deserve my concern either way."

"Please, Sister…" She sobbed. "Not tonight. Just not tonight."

"Oh, my poor girl." Sister Julienne sat down once more and hugged her tightly. "Come here. I will stay with you until you fall asleep."

Sister Bernadette wiped her tears with a quivering hand and relaxed into the comforting embrace. "Th- Thank you, Sister."

She rested her head on Sister Julienne's lap and her breathing slowed down. Minutes passed, and the young woman was sound asleep, while her comforter was debating over what to do. Suddenly, the door opened and closed with the usual calmness after a job well done, and Cynthia tiptoed down the corridor.

"Cynthia!" Sister Julienne whispered. "Cynthia!"

Cynthia squinted her eyes at the living-room, apparently surprised that the light was still on. "Oh! Sister Julienne, I didn't see you there." She smiled, and then frowned. "Is everything okay?"

"No, Cynthia, it is not." The nun glanced worriedly at the sleeping Sister. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Of course, of course." Cynthia nodded, confused.

"Call Dr. Turner. Tell him Sister Bernadette is ill, and tell him to come as soon as he can. If my predictions prove to be right, then an hour will make all the difference."

The petite nurse stared at her with wide eyes. "I will do just that. Poor Sister."

Sister Julienne thanked an already running Cynthia, and patiently waited for the verdict. A few minutes later, she heard quick steps.

"Dr. Turner says he will be here as soon as he can, and he will bring Timothy with him, as he cannot leave him with anyone this late. I told him where you were, so he should have no problem finding you once he arrives." Cynthia informed, suppressing a yawn.

Sister Julienne smiled, thankful. "Go to sleep, dear. Thank you very much, we will talk in the morning."

Cynthia smiled, embarrassed. "Thank you, Sister. I hope all will be fine."

"Me too… me too."

Alone again, Sister Julienne found herself drifting to a state of sleepiness. _Let us hope Dr. Turner can help you, sweet girl._ _And I do mean help you, in every possible way._

**A/N: Every review is highly appreciated. Tell me if you like it, what you want to read in the next chapters, whatever you think to write I'll read and be very happy you took the time to write it.**

**Inamioly**


	2. Chapter 2

Sister Julienne was unsure of how long it had been, but the sound of a less calm door slamming woke her and she did not feel rested at all. Hurried steps echoed down the corridor, and Sister Julienne sighed in relief as she heard Dr. Turner instructing Timothy to behave. The doctor's unsettled face appeared at the door, and Sister Julienne greeted him with a murmur.

"She is here, Doctor."

Dr. Turner took a moment to compose himself, reminded he was in the presence of nuns, and ran a hand through his ruffled hair.

"I appreciate greatly you having come so quickly at such a short notice." She smiled.

The doctor nodded swiftly, eyes locked on Sister Bernadette's sleeping form. "It's, huh, it's no trouble at all."

Timothy coughed timidly, eyeing the sick nun sadly. "I hope she gets better. She is lots of fun, and I like her very much."

Dr. Turner smiled, clearing his throat. "So, Sister… if you could find Timmy a place to sleep, I could begin to assess Sister Bernadette's condition."

"Certainly, Doctor. Can you please help me? I need to lay her head on this pillow before I go, or I'm afraid she will wake up."

The Doctor nodded and grabbed a pillow. Sister Julienne held her head, moved to the side, and softly placed her on the pillow. Sister Bernadette sighed, frowning, her breathing quickening, and the Doctor grabbed her hand.

"Shh… Go to sleep, Sister." He whispered. Then he turned to Sister Julienne. "Her fever is incredibly high." He pursed his lips.

"Yes, it is, indeed. She worsened quite a bit since Cynthia called you. And you should see her eyes; feverish as I have not often seen."

He rubbed her hand with his thumb, careful not to attract the elder Sister's attention. "I will take care of her. You can go to sleep as well, Sister, as I know you must wake up at quite an early hour every day."

"That is very kind of you." Sister Julienne smiled fondly and patted his shoulder softly. "Do take care of her. She has been feeling down these last few days, and I am afraid I have been of no help… I cannot seem to understand what has got her so preoccupied, but she barely sleeps these days. Her body is weakened by it, I'm certain, and I fear that if she does not improve her spirits, this disease with get the best of her."

Dr. Turner swallowed, never letting go of her hand. "I will do my best, Sister. Have a good night."

"You too, Doctor." She walked towards the door, leading Timmy towards his room after he kissed his father goodnight.

Once their footsteps were no longer audible, he relaxed his stiffened shoulders. He brought her hand to her chin, so he could best hear her breathing, but found himself unable to let her go. The air she breathed was warm, perhaps too warm, and he fought the urge to brush her cheek.

"What have you done, Sister?" He murmured, as he took the chance to check her pulse. It was quick and irregular, even if strong. She stirred in her sleep and he held his breath. "Don't wake up, sweetie. Keep sleeping." He soothed her.

Sister Bernadette coughed, and her eyes squinted. "Just… Just… Hum."

"Shh… You are ill, my dear, and sleep will restore your health."

Her lip trembled, and a tear fell down her cheek. "Don… no go… please."

Her fever was high enough she did not fully understand her surroundings, and Dr. Turner knew that, but he could not help addressing her concerns. "I won't. I won't go, I promise."

She relaxed, her grasp firm, and he refused to admit falling victim to his very willing imagination. He suspected pneumonia was robbing her of her health, and he had to tackle it before it became uncontrollable. With his free hand, he reached his bag and grabbed a flask, and then a spoon. "I need my hand now, sweetie. Just for a moment." Barely willingly, he let go of her hand and poured the liquid onto the spoon. "Open your mouth, please, Sister. This will make you feel better."

With effort, Sister Bernadette obeyed his request and he lifted her head gently. She frowned. "Head…"

"Your head hurts?" He placed the spoon on the small table and brushed her cheek. Her fingers rose to his and motioned for him to hold her hand. He sighed, his forehead wrinkled with worry. "It will be okay." He assured her, his voice constrained. "Please… it has to be."

It was no ordinary situation. No ordinary patient. He laid his head on their hands, and allowed a trembling sigh. "Please, please… don't die."

**A/N: So, I'm incredibly inspired by this pairing, and I can't seem to stop writing, ahah. I would really appreciate if you would tell what you like, what you don't like, so I can get some helpful feedback on my writing (I'm Portuguese, so grammar mistakes are bound to find their way into this story, unfortunately). Thank you soooo much!**

**Kisses,**

**Inamioly**


	3. Chapter 3

Sister Julienne finished her morning affairs, quick and respectful of their meaning, and walked swiftly towards the living-room. Her mind had been preoccupied with the young girl for quite some time, and her concerns had materialized in the form of what she thought to be pneumonia. She hoped to be wrong, though, or the recovery would be very slow – and there was a chance, which she hoped to be the slimmest of all, that recovery was not possible. Checking up on Cynthia, who was in charge of Timothy, she offered the little boy a piece of chocolate from her secret jar.

She stopped by the kitchen to heat up some water for tea, and occupied herself cleaning the breadcrumbs on the floor. Sister Monica Joan had obviously already been there, and she glanced around, amused. The older Sister had failed to hide her sweet bread well enough, for Sister Julienne found it without any trouble.

"At least cover it up, or it will spoil." She laughed quietly and covered the bread with a napkin.

When the tea was ready, she placed it on the tray, along with three tea-cups. Attempting to scare away the worry, she told herself Sister Bernadette was in good hands, and probably already on medicine. She reached the living-room and, as she heard no sound, made no sounds as well.

"Oh…" A surprised gasp escaped her mouth, and she quickly composed herself. Dr. Turner had covered the young nun with a warm blanket and had fallen asleep half-sitting on the floor with both hands on her arm, his head against the sofa.

The Doctor sensed the nun's presence and stirred, slowly opening his eyes. Suddenly fully aware of the happenings, he quickly, though gently, withdrew his hands from Sister Bernadette's arm. He eyed Sister Julienne tiredly, and more than a bit embarrassed. "Sister Bernadette had a rough night... I was quite worried for a moment."

It took the elder nun a moment to react. "My poor man, you must be exhausted." She smiled kindly. "Have some tea, and then you can tell me all about the care Sister Bernadette will be needing."

He sighed. "Of course. Thank you, Sister." He accepted the cup of tea.

"Would you not rather sit on the couch?" Sister Julienne asked with amused eyes.

The Doctor coughed. "No, no, thank you, Sister, I am quite comfortable here. Also, that would surely wake her up."

"As you wish." She laughed quietly. "So, do tell me what is wrong with Sister Bernadette." She continued in a more serious tone.

He glanced at the sleeping nun, glad to see her so at peace. "It is, unfortunately, pneumonia. She must have had this fever and the rest of the symptoms for about a week, because the disease was already advanced by the time you called me. I gave her medicine, and she will need to be monitored, but I am confident she will make a full recovery. She was very lucky."

"Yes, yes, she was." The older woman relaxed. "Thank you so much, Dr. Turner. I know she could not have been in greater hands. She even looks happier today."

He smiled sadly. "Oh, I don't know about that. But I'm glad you think so, Sister. It is always a pleasure to be of use."

"That it is. Can I offer some advice, Doctor?"

He looked up from his feet, surprised. "Of course, Sister."

"And please do not take this as a reproach."

The tired man swallowed in silence, uncomfortable. With a sigh, he gave in. "I am sorry, Sister. I can guarantee you that I was once a noble man. I don't know what has come over me, I promise you. It's as if I no longer have control. And I'm ashamed; I'm ashamed that I am no longer noble, or respectful, or strong-willed. I am so sorry."

Sister Julienne stood up and placed her cup of tea on the tray. Squatting with some ease, she squeezed his shoulder. "Only those who live by hypocrisy see life as an unchangeable gift. So long as you are respectful of today as you think of tomorrow, you have no reason to think of your doings as wrong. Be upfront, truthful to yourself, and avoid the anguish of denying yourself the chance to be happy."

Dr. Turner felt all grasp on things fleeing him, hardening his voice to prevent it from cracking. "I can't… I can't even think…"

"My dear man, be true to yourself first. All the others come second when it comes to admissions. I am surely not the person you will feel more comfortable talking about this, but I must give you this advice: prove her that the feelings you arise in her are not necessarily wrong. She is still very young, and the habit is not the only way to love God."

Closing his eyes, he felt weak. His head was throbbing, surely from the lack of decent sleep, and he was not past worrying over Sister Bernadette. It was all too much for him to handle.

"Where is Timothy, Sister?" He managed.

"On his way to school. After Cynthia assured him both you and Sister were okay, he behaved accordingly and left a while ago."

His eyes snapped open. "Already? Oh, no, it's awfully late, then. I must have been called dozens of times already." He punched the floor, and the sleeping brunette stirred. "Mistake after mistake." He slapped his forehead.

Sister Julienne stood up. "We had Fred inform your house keeper of your whereabouts, and she said she would call as soon as you were requested."

"So, that would mean no-one called." He relaxed.

"See, Doctor? God must have wanted you to tend to this particular patient, or else He would have had His way."

Sister Bernadette moved her head, mumbling, and Dr. Turner held his breath. "Tor… Doc- Doctor…"

He smiled, first at Sister Julienne then at her. "I'm here. I'm right here, I didn't go."

"Hum…" She smiled, her brows relaxed. "Here…"

Sister Julienne smiled fondly and walked out of the room without making a sound, closing the door behind her.

**A/N: So, I think this will be the last chapter I post today. I got all excited, and couldn't stop writing *applauses for the pairing*. Don't forget to review, just so I see if you are enjoying the story, yes? Thank you very much!**

**Kisses,**

**Inamioly**


	4. Chapter 4

"Doctor… Doc… am I ill?"

Dr. Turner ran a hand through his hair and exhaled in relief. She tried to stand up, but he stopped her. "Don't, Sister, you will be wasting your strength. Allow me to help you."

He stood up, not very easily due to the stiff back, and gently grabbed her under the arms. She did not complain, but instead complied, working with him the best she could, as she felt her body fail her. "I am sorry I am not sufficiently strong."

"It's okay, my dear, you had an extremely rough night. You worsened very quickly." He gave her a glass of water to help with the crispness in her voice.

She blushed slightly at the term of endearment, and permitted herself to lean on him as he sat beside her. Her head, powerless against the very alluring shoulders, rested heavily against him. "What is wrong with me?"

"Pneumonia. You should have come to me sooner."

Her breathing quickened, and so did her pulse, which did not go by unnoticed by the Doctor. "Don't be upset, Sister. I never mean to upset you."

"It is not that which I am feeling right now, Doctor. Besides being a little weak, and perhaps embarrassed, I feel nothing like upset."

He smiled, secretly enjoying the close contact. "That's good."

The young nun smiled back, having felt the switch in his disposition merely by a change in his posture. "May I… may I ask you something?"

"Anything, Sister."

She coughed, her voice sweet on a sore throat. "I am tired."

He brushed her hand, with more vehemence than intended. "I regret that I cannot make you better altogether. It will take time, but you'll be okay." He assured her.

"Hum…" She breather into his cheek. "I know that. What I wanted to ask, though… and I do feel selfish to ask…" She admitted, embarrassed.

"That's nonsense."

"Could you stay with me until I fall back asleep?"

He placed a hand over her back, and she felt warmer. He kissed the top of her head, which was covered by fabric, but she almost shivered nonetheless. "Sweetie… I am not going anywhere."

"You are too good a man." She relaxed. "I feel safe with you."

"I want you to be safe." He breathed in. "But I'm afraid I cannot, in my good senses, let you sleep again without having eaten something first."

Sister Bernadette protested with a frown. "Oh, it is fine, I am far from being hungry."

Dr. Turner chuckled. "I'm quite aware of that, sweetie, but you have to eat something nonetheless."

"Hum… I… Oh… Very well, then." She slightly pouted, eyes threatening to fall shut together. "You are the doctor, after all."

He laughed. "That I am. Now stand still because I need to get up in order to get you your breakfast. Lean towards the couch's arm, please, Sister." She nodded, perhaps more stiffly than intended, and he smiled. "I see you are mad. It's okay, whatever gets you to comply."

She coughed and straightened her sore back, closing her eyes. "My head… it is so heavy I feel I cannot hold it for long."

"Don't worry, I will be back in just a moment." He assured her, and moved swiftly towards the kitchen. The room was somewhat crowded, what with the nurses having a late breakfast as well, and he greeted them all.

Jenny smiled. "Good morning, Dr. Turner. How is Sister Bernadette?"

He could not help but grin in relief. "Working her way back to health, hopefully. Pneumonia." He added, as an explanation.

"Oh." They all said, pity showing in their eyes.

"Poor Sister… She must be feeling quite dreadfully." Trixie mused.

"She is. And even though I suspect she is a bit nauseated from the medication, she still has to eat. Which is what I was coming to get… could you arrange for me to bring her a tray of appetizing food?"

"Of course, Doctor, I'll do that just now." Jenny promptly offered, quickly assembling bread, tea, fresh orange juice and a glass of milk.

"Thank you very much, Nurse Lee." He grabbed the tray. "Enjoy your breakfast."

"You too, Dr. Turner." She called after him, and he was soon out of their sight.

He rotated the doorknob with one hand and pushed the door with his shoulder. Sister Bernadette was torn between keeping her eyes open and her head steady, her hands snuggled under the warm blanket.

"Here we go." He announced with a cheerful smile, trying to get her on board with eating. He placed the tray on his side of the couch and sat down beside her. "Let me check your fever, please, Sister."

She squinted her eyes and answered the best she could with a nod. "Ouch."

He smiled. "Don't move your head, as it will worsen the headache." Tentatively, with as much confidence as he could muster, he placed a hand on her cheek, softly brushing it. He then moved to her temple and frowned. "It's still quite high. As soon as you are finished with breakfast, I must insist that you go lie down."

With a weak smile, she challenged him. "That is, assuming I will eat, correct?"

He chuckled. "I'm very good at what I do. If I want you to eat, believe me when I tell you that you will, in fact, eat."

She sighed, amused. "You sound quite confident."

He held both her hands under the blanket and stared right into her eyes, a teasing smile playing in his lips. "I am."

She sustained her breath and glanced down at his arms. "You are very warm yourself."

"That is because right now, the fever is making you cold." The Doctor removed his hands and ignored her silent protest. He held the orange juice in front of her mouth. "My dear, as soon as there is an intake of vitamins on your behalf, I'll let you go back to your sleeping affairs."

She furrowed her eyebrows, curious. "Are you playing me, Doctor?"

"Like I said, whatever works. All I want is for you to be back on your feet as soon as possible." He placed a hand behind her head, securing it, and brought the cup to her mouth, having met no resistance. "See? It's not that hard."

She made a face, wrinkling her forehead. "It is not pleasant either." She complained as she finished sipping.

He placed the cup on the tray and pulled her head onto his shoulder. "For now, it's enough. You did well, Sister."

She sighed, relieved. "No more food?"

"No. No more food for now."

She closed her eyes, and her breathing slowed down. "Thank you." She whispered.

"It's quite alright, Sister." The Doctor stroked her hand and felt her fingers entwine in his. He wondered what part in all this the fever had.

They stood still for quite a few minutes, Dr. Turner listening attentively to her breathing, looking out for any irregularities. Suddenly, a knock on the door made them both stir in their semi-conscious state.

Cynthia and Jenny peeked through the door. "Doctor?" Jenny whispered.

"Yes, Nurse Lee?" He whispered back.

"You are requested in the Northans' house for a suspected second-degree burn."

He silently cursed, eyeing the half asleep Sister beside him. "Oh… Oh, okay."

"Sister Julienne suggested we take Sister Bernadette to a vacant room nearer the bathroom and kitchen, should she need something." Cynthia informed him, glancing at the couch.

Dr. Turner nodded in agreement. "Of course, that's an excellent idea."

"Nurse Lee will accompany you, while I enlist Fred's help in moving her, Dr. Turner." Cynthia suggested in a helpful tone.

The Doctor shook his head. "That won't be necessary. I can carry her, and then I'll use the opportunity to make her comfortable in her new bed. She has quite the headache."

Cynthia nodded quickly. "As you wish."

Dr. Turner sat Sister Bernadette against the couch's arm again, and she whimpered. "I'm sorry, Sister, I'll try and be quick." He stood up and lifted her up in his arms without effort, ignoring the slight twinge in his back. Both nurses eyed him widely.

"Do you need any help, Doctor?" Jenny offered.

"Hold the door, please, and lead the way." He walked out of the room with ease and followed the nurses as they reached a door near the kitchen. They opened the door and Cynthia arranged for him to lay the Sister on the bed. He carefully laid her head on the soft pillow and tucked her in.

The sheets were colder than the couch had been, which resulted in a soft complain. Sister Bernadette opened her eyes and both nurses smiled.

"Welcome back, Sister."

"Sister…" The Doctor began, more formal than he intended, and she looked at him strangely.

"You have to go." It was not a question.

"I do." He sighed.

Her lip trembled and she looked away. "Will you…" She whispered timidly. "Will you come back?"

He did not even want to go. "Sleep, Sister." He subtly stroked her shoulder and whispered. "I'll be here when you wake up. It will be as if I never left."

**BREAK HERE**

Cynthia sat on the kitchen bench beside Trixie, looking puzzled.

"I think I'm seeing things."

**A/N: Eheh, the biggest update to date. I have so much fun writing these two. THANK YOU SO MUCH to all of you who reviewed, yes? It means the world to me 3**

**Kisses,**

**Inamioly**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: OH MY GOD, I'm so going to kill Call the Midwife's writers! What on earth were they thinking? SPOILER ALERT!SPOILER ALERT (((Giving her TB?)))) Well… I hope you step on a lego each time you breathe!**

**On with the story….**

Five days had passed. Dr. Turner had been in and out of the nursing convent, persistent in his quest to assist Sister Bernadette in her recovery, and she presented him with a ready smile and moments of comfortable silence or apparently simple topics of conversation. All the nurses would visit from time to time, subtly checking up on the highly defensive and not-complaining nun, and would leave it to Sister Julienne to gently knock some sense into her stubborn self.

"I must insist, dear girl, that you remain seated until further notice. The ideal would be for you to lie all day, but I do not even ask that." Sister Julienne admonished her.

Sister Bernadette smiled. "Oh, but Sister, do you see the Sun outside? It is incredibly appealing, and I must say, as a person with medical background, you should agree that the sunlight does wonders to those convalescing."

"You smart girl…" The older woman shook her head, slightly amused. "While I can think of no rational arguments to contradict yours, I have strict orders from Dr. Turner not to allow you out of you room until you are completely fever free."

She sighed, frustrated and embarrassed by the consequent outburst. "But I want to, Sister."

Sister Julienne raised an eyebrow. "Are we throwing a tantrum?"

The young nun blushed and quickly lowered her head. "I am so sorry, I do not know what came over me."

Sister Julienne sat on the end part of her bed, massaging her feet. "I do." She smiled kindly. "You are an active woman. Believe me when I tell you that even if it seems as if time will not end, your current predicament is not forever." She paused and reinforced the firm tone to her words. "Pneumonia is just a scary word these days. You will be cured, and in the meantime you have the best pair of eyes and hands looking out for your recovery."

Her blue eyes lit at the mention of Dr. Turner. "I know… and I really appreciate it. I feel safe knowing the Lord sent him to help me overcome this disease." Sister Julienne nodded knowingly. "It is just…" A trembling sigh made her close her eyes.

"You are scared."

"No… no, Sister. God's plan is, and always will be, God's plan. I should not fear what God has sent for me." She played with the fabric of the blanket.

Sister Julienne reached her arm and brushed her cheek. "There is no shame in being afraid. Never. Just own up to what you are feeling, will you, Sister?" She eyed her intently. "You, my dear, are too young still. You are much, much too young for everything that has come your way, and you have sprung by it with a fabulous grace. But remember, sweetheart, you are a young person, and you are entitled to make mistakes. Everyone is, really, but society these days has a soft spot for the youngsters. Be afraid, feel, and make your own choices. You have our love, now and always."

Sister Bernadette grabbed the older nun's hand and softly grasped, while a tear ran down her cheek. Sister Julienne wiped it and kissed the top of her head.

"I will be coming to check on you before dinner. Try and get some rest."

**CALLtheMIDWIFEcallTHEmidwife CALLtheMIDWIFE**

It had been a whole hour since Sister Bernadette had been left alone in the room. She would never admit it to anyone, but she had become quite dependent on her daily visits to get some decent sleep time. Although having chosen to deal with disease on a daily basis, when it came to her own health, she took it quite hard.

With her head on the pillow, and her eyes closed, she listened intently to every small sound. She could usually hear the birds singing in the morning across the patio, and the morning bustle around the convent.

The door opened with little noise, and hesitant steps made their way towards the bed. Steps she had learnt to recognize. She smiled subtly.

Dr. Turner chuckled. "I know you are not sleeping, Sister."

She cracked one eye open. "Am I that predictable?"

"To me you are." She blushed. He shook his head, amused. "No, I'm just teasing you. In fact, I came here to make a deal with you."

That sparked an interest in her. "You did?"

"Yes." He lowered a tray in the table beside the bed. She sat up, confused.

"Do tell." She requested, curious.

"It has come to my attention that your rest is of more consistence whenever you manage to fall asleep in someone else's company." He remarked, nonchalant, rearranging the food in the tray so as to make it easier.

"Oh." She blushed even more, unsure of what to say.

"Consequently, and as it will be impossible for me to visit you again today, I want to make sure I can be of help. You will eat your dinner right now, an hour earlier than usual, and I'll stay with you until you are fast asleep."

Sister Bernadette eyed him, surprised and touched. "You…" She sighed. "You are too kind. I have said it before, and I will say it again."

"You sound as if you think you're undeserving." He grabbed a plate of chicken and held it close to her. She grabbed the fork and noted, smiling slightly, he had cut the chicken in small pieces.

"I would not go that far."

"But you would go as far as half way." It was not a question.

She smiled, silent.

They spent the rest of the meal in silence, and he ended up grabbing a chair and sitting beside her. It took them no longer than a quarter of an hour for her to be ready and tired enough to sleep. She yawned politely, eyes on the blanket covering her legs.

"I trust it was good. Sister Mary Joan sends her regards and regrets being too busy folding laundry to come here before dinner." He smiled and put the plate back in the tray.

"It was wonderful, thank you."

"And now…" He sat back on the chair. "Sleep, Sister."

She pursed her lips and stuttered. "I… I guess so."

He stared at her, a knowing look in his eyes. "It's worse at night, correct?"

"Yes." She whispered.

"Lie down, please. Please, trust me." She slowly complied, and he covered her with the blanket the best he could. "Now, close your eyes and listen."

Sister Bernadette closed her eyes with effort and her breathing became heavier. He grabbed her hand and felt her pulse racing. "Relax."

"I am paying attention, okay?" He spoke calmly. "I am trying to make sure you only have to spend a couple of more days with this disease haunting you. I am going to speak the truth, in the most honest way that I can, okay?"

"Hum…" She acknowledged.

"I have no reason to believe you won't be okay. Your pneumonia already scarred your lungs, yes, but the scarring is minimal. You, sweetie, are going to be just fine." He kissed her hand. "Trust me."

"I… do." She mumbled, and he chuckled.

"Sleep, sweetie. Get better soon." He paused. "Please."

**A/N: I just love them and their sweet, out of the ordinary chemistry…! Review, people, I love reading your thoughts! And please, give me suggestions, I highly need them : ))))**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Let me start off by saying I'm INCREDIBLY SORRY for the delay. No excuse is one hundred percent valid, but I hope mine comes close enough: not only was I hit, ironically enough, by a pulmonary infection AND a throat/ ear infection, but I also had two portfolios to deliver till this past Friday. So you can imagine how my life became hectic in a matter of days -.-'**

**Also, a HUGE THANK YOU to all the lovely reviewers, followers and **_**favoriters**_**. YOU MADE MY DAYS! : ))))**

**Now, on with the story, and once again, I'm terribly sorry, and hope you enjoy!**

"So, Sister, are you terribly itchy to get out of that bed?"

Sister Bernadette offered Trixie a very enthusiastic smile. "Oh, you took the words right out of my mouth."

Trixie laughed and grabbed the sheets she had been sent to change. Judging from the badly treated dark circles under her eyes, Sister Bernadette needed more than medicine to be completely healed. "I recommend a two-day exposure to fresh air, green gardens and a stroll on the busy streets. You'll be good as new, missy." She thickened her voice, impersonating a doctor.

Sister Bernadette smiled. "I feel unstoppable, Trixie. It is a superb feeling, compared to what I have been experiencing these last few days."

"Quite true, Sister. Quite true." She opened the curtains and teased. "Although some days were better than others, I assume."

The convalescing nun blushed and eyed her hands. "I do not know what you are referring to. I must say there is nothing joyful in pneumonia, and all days were an equal nuisance."

"I can't believe you." Trixie turned around to face her, a mocking hand on her hip. "So you're telling me all the visits from little Timothy didn't brighten your days?"

Sister Bernadette's heart skipped a beat in anticipation and then raised an eyebrow, admonishing the nurse's teasing. "Of course they did. I love that little boy. He's very intelligent, and a pleasure to talk to."

"Of course, just like his father. It's in the genes, you know?" Trixie commented lightly, trying not to drop the pile of sheets from her hands while rearranging the vase of flowers on the nightstand. "Anyway, I have the Johnson's babies to check on in half an hour, so I should get going."

"Of course, Trix. Thank you for the wonderful visit, although I could have taken care of my room today." She waved the busy blonde goodbye. "I will see you at dinner."

"Nonsense. I'll be saving you a seat, Sister." Trixie winked back and closed the door behind her.

Sister Bernadette was left to her own thoughts, and even if she would never admit it to anyone, she allowed herself to enjoy the last of the naps she would be able to enjoy in a (thankfully) very long time.

**CALLTHEMIDWIFECALLTHEMIDWIFE **

It was four in the afternoon, and Sister Bernadette had just finished reading when her door opened with great noise.

"Timmy." She acknowledged, smiling openly. "It is so good to see you."

The boy ran to her and hugged her. "I'm so gald you're feeling better, Sister. You had us worried for a moment, there." He added in a serious voice.

"Not only am I feeling better, but I am also totally healed, Timothy. I am only resting because your silly father insisted that I stay here until dinner." She informed him, tickling him.

He laughed. "He's not silly, he's just worried. Although Sister Julienne tells me I often confuse both things."

"You are not the only one." She patted his head gently. "Come on, grab a chair and tell me all about school."

The dark-haired boy quickly complied and set his books on her bed as he sat down on the woodened chair. He sighed. "Nothing exciting to report today, I'm afraid, Sister. I showed Miss James the drawing we made together, and she showed it to the class, but then said she was out of pins to hang it and put it in her drawer…" He finished, sulking. "I wanted Dad to see it on the wall. I even wrote our names in the front so everyone could see who drew it."

"Oh, it is not a problem. We can draw another, and I can hang it in our living-room, what do you say, Timmy?"

His eyes widened, excited. "Are you serious? Near your sewing machine?"

"Precisely there." She smiled. "And every time your dad gets called in, he will see it."

"Awesome, Sister. You're the best." He hugged her again. "I'll have to think of a theme, though."

She nodded. "You do that, and I will do the same. Between us, I think we will be able to come up with a very nice theme, and maybe have the drawing ready for when your father comes to pick you up."

Timothy assented, his mind already busy with planning, subconsciously playing with the pencil in one hand. After a few minutes and a very animated gasp of inspiration, he came up with the idea of drawing the front entrance of the convent, and the three of them on the stairs, which Sister Bernadette keenly agreed on.

Using only one pencil, they drew for an hour, and Timothy would _offer_ Sister Bernadette the chance to draw whatever part he could not. Sister Bernadette drew all their faces, and the little boy did the shadows on their bodies.

"You are incredibly talented, Timmy." She stated, impressed, as he finished shadowing the windows.

He blushed. "Thank you, Sister. Dad should be coming soon, I can't wait to show him."

They wrote their names, and soon enough, there was a knock on the door.

"Dad!" Timothy greeted, grinning.

"Hello, son." Dr. Turner ruffled his hair teasingly, ignoring the playful frown as the boy straightened it.

"Dad… Sister Bernadette's here." He grumbled.

"And you have to look your best?" He patted his shoulder, while eyeing the grinning nun. He noticed her hands had graphite spots, so he guessed they had been drawing. She smiled directly into his eyes, and he fought the urge to brush her hand. Instead he ran his through his hair, now suddenly concerned with his rushed appearance. "The Jackson's mother was in a foul mood." He explained, slightly embarrassed, and tucked his shirt in.

She shook her head subtly, smiling as he tried to make himself more presentable. "You look very well, Doctor. And you certainly sound happy."

He sat on her bed, careful not to touch her feet. "I get to come home, now, and Mercer has a new baby girl making her smile, so all is well in this kingdom."

Timothy laughed. "Babies cry, Dad, don't forget that. I'm sure that lady won't smile when she can't sleep at night because the little girl's crying."

"It's her daughter, Timmy. I sure wouldn't complain hearing my daughter cry if it meant I knew she was there."

He rolled his eyes, seeking support in Sister Bernadette. "Yes, yes… when I get a little sister, I'll be reminding you of what you just said."

Dr. Turner blushed slightly. "Please, do."

An awkward silence set in, and Sister Bernadette took it as an opportunity to nudge Timmy. "Show him." She whispered.

"Show me what?" Dr. Turner inquired, curious.

Timothy grabbed a concealed and slightly ruffled paper from the pile beside his books and nervously, and yet proudly, handed it to the doctor, who gasped. "But, Timothy, this is fantastic!"

Sister Bernadette acquiesced vigorously. "That is exactly what I told him. It is quite a gift to see reality in these terms."

"Indeed. The light… and the shadows. Wonderful job, son, thank you very much." He kissed the little boy's cheek, much to the latter's contentment. "Where do we suppose we should hang it? Next to your diplomas?"

Timothy shook his head. "Hum, Dad, I was thinking… since Sister Bernadette helped me…" He started, hesitant. "I was thinking we could hang it here in the convent. Sister Bernadette suggested the living-room."

"She did?" He looked at her, grateful, and subtly allowed his fingers to meet hers.

"Yes. And then we could all come see it every once in a while." Timothy added. "And if we were to hang it in our place, Sister Bernadette wouldn't see it anymore."

"Oh…" He found no smart reply to the boy's logic. Sister Bernadette focused on the fabric, entwining her fingers in his. "Well, I guess it's settled, then. Can you…" He coughed. "Can you go see if Sister Julienne helps you put it up?"

Timothy grabbed the drawing from his dad and happily left the room, closing the door with a noticeable noise. Dr. Turner chuckled. "That boy…"

"Yes." Sister Bernadette agreed, a smile playing on her lips.

They stood in silence for a while, each eyeing one another, swallowing occasionally despite the lumps in their throats. He furrowed his eyebrows as Sister Bernadette's gaze unfocused and she bit her lip.

"Is anything the matter, Sister?"

"I was wondering…" She gulped, her cheeks rose with slight embarrassment. He encouraged her. "I was wondering if I could say something."

"Anything." He promptly replied, firming the grasp on her hand.

She sighed, nervous, glancing at the door.

"He'll be a while."

"Okay." She inhaled. "Okay, then." She sat up straight, her back now leaning against nothing at all, which brought her closer to him. "I am a woman of principles. I always have been, and always will be. You do understand that, am I right?"

He nodded, deflating a little with her words.

"Having said that, I was wondering… if you would wait for me."

His eyes widened, his lips parted in a mist of confusion and disbelief.

"Would you wait for me, even if I could promise you nothing? Even if I could only promise you I would do everything in my power to figure out where I stand, where you stand in my life?" She breathed. "Would you wait… if I told you I would try?"

Unable to respond, he gently squeezes her hand, barely in control of his emotions.

"I know it is not much what I have to offer you. However, if I am not terribly mistaken… there is something here." She finished softly, her eyes seeking for reassurance. "Am I… am I right?"

He cleared his head, and then his throat, and then he looked at her once more. "My dear…" He grabbed both her hands. "I'll wait for you for as long as it takes."

Sister Bernadette sighed, relieved, her eyes betraying her with the secrets she sought to hide. "My sweet man… you cannot possibly know how much that means to me."

"I think I can." He grinned out of sheer nervousness. "It means twice as much to me."

She chuckled and brushed his hand with her thumb. "Not everything is a competition."

"As if anyone dared to fight me on this." He teased.

"Give me a week, will you?" She asked, still nervous.

He nodded, suddenly serious. "We have all the time in the world, my dear. You have my word." He kissed her hand and they waited patiently for Timothy's return, perfectly content with just enjoying the ghost of the promise of a better tomorrow.


End file.
